Take Me For What I am
by Flo
Summary: Severus Snape- a man desperately trying to repress his traumatic past and forget himself. A man who loathes himself completely. A man in the utmost of pain. O woe, woe is he..


I'm a miserable bastard.  
  
Well, I must be. I'm finding solace sitting here in the dark in my own dungeon. It smells of damp. The floor is cold, hard and hurts my bottom. I could easily get up and light a few torches, but it doesn't mean I'm going to. It's not like there's anything spectacular to see as it is.  
  
I have always been a firm believer in suiting myself to my surroundings. That's why you don't see me frolicking about o'er dales and hills and such. I'd much rather be here- the dungeon and I are so alike. Cold. Hard. Ever so slightly sinister. Stony. Maybe even smelly- I do tend to neglect myself.  
  
Minerva said to me the other day that I was depressed. She lay her hand on my shoulder and gravely delivered her diagnosis like she was the angel of death. Depressed! It was all I could do not to laugh in her face. Depressed is no word to describe my condition. Just because I don't smile and embrace all living things does not mean that I'm about to throw myself off the astronomy tower.  
  
What people don't seem to understand is that I am happy. I'm happy being miserable, because that's the way I am. I don't loathe myself as they all seem to think- my self neglect is not intentional. You try finding time in your schedule as Potions Master and head of Slytherin House to have a good wash. No, I don't look in the mirror and burst into tears. I don't own a mirror. And neither, for that fact, do I seem to have any tears.  
  
Emotionless.  
  
That's another label Minerva puts on me. It's all to do with my traumatic past, she says. I repress my emotions so I don't get hurt. Utter rubbish, of course. I just don't know why they all want me to be deeper than I actually am. They're desperate for me to angst-ridden, climbing the walls with my own despair.  
  
And as for repressing emotions and painful memories- does she expect me to be constantly musing about my sordid past as a Death Eater? Does she really want to see me rocking back and forth, huddled in a corner screaming the Dark Lord's name in a cold sweat? Perhaps I should walk round clutching my marked arm and bemoaning my woes to anybody who'll listen. O, it burns, it burns! The pain, ai but the pain, Minerva!  
  
They've made up this history for me- the female professors, I mean. They think that I lived in this massive great Gothic castle with parents that didn't even know I existed. They all agreed that I never had a single friend, because my parents didn't believe in letting me play. I never knew any love, of course. Doesn't that make the story so much better? Snape isn't an evil bastard, really, he's just so unloved! For extra measure, they throw in a bit of child abuse. That must be why I'm so cold and wary. And a reason for my anger, and bitterness too. I joined the Death Eaters because the abuse and lack of love in my childhood made me a disruptive, world-weary young man. So keen to destroy. And of course, my experience on the Dark Side was the icing on the cake. To them I am now haunted, a shadow of my former self, whatever they want to call it. Poor, poor Severus!  
  
Funny that they seem to analyse me better than I do. I don't tend to think about myself that much. Ah! That must be the repressed emotion! Well, if it is, it can bloody well stay repressed thank you very much. What's that, denial? Don't be silly. I'm not in denial.  
  
I really don't know why they want to feel sorry for me. What right do they have, when I don't feel sorry for myself? There's nothing worse I can think of then wallowing in self pity. What makes people think they're important enough to do that, anyway?  
  
The truth is, yes, I do get lonely, yes, my time in the Death Eaters was horrible and yes, I am indeed bitter. Of course I get lonely, humans are sociable creatures and it's perfectly natural. Everybody gets lonely- tragic childhood or not. And everybody has nasty experiences from time to time. We just deal with them in different ways. My way involves no crying or nightmares, no self harm or suicide attempts and definitely no angst.  
  
I just get on with things instead of constantly recalling them and making it worse.  
  
It's always the other houses who say I'm cold hearted anyway. What do they expect? They have nothing to do with me, they're not my responsibility. And if I want to be horrid to Potter or Longbottom or someone equally nauseating, why shouldn't I? They can hate me if they want. It's fine, because at the end of the day, I've got my Slytherins.  
  
Unfortunately, I do get a little fond of my house. What can be expected for a man who has no chance of sex, let alone marriage or children? I try not to let my fondness show, but it does tend to crack through my stony exterior at times. I have my favourites, and they damn well know who they are.  
  
Flint. Amazing Quidditch player, but admittedly rather stupid.  
  
Zabini. There's a great deal of ambition there, which is fortunate because Blaise hasn't got much in the way of looks. To be honest, I'm not even sure whether Blaise is male or female.  
  
And of course, Malfoy. So wonderfully malicious and slimy, like his old father. I know Draco could- and probably will go far.  
  
But that isn't why I like Draco so much. The reason is simple. Everybody is as quick to put him in the 'emotional trauma' box as they are for me. Poor Draco. His daddy is so cruel and nobody loves him. He's only calling you names because he's hurting inside- you must feel sorry for him! He can't help the family he was born into. They assume that Lucius batters him to a pulp with his cane on a regular basis. That he dishes out pro-Voldemort propaganda to his son like sweets. Yes, Draco doesn't really believe that Mudbloods are the scum of the earth- it's just that he's had terrible views imposed on him all his life.  
  
What they'll never understand is that Draco is, simply, a nasty piece of work. There's nothing lurking underneath his surface to justify it. When he's calling you names, it's because he thinks you really are ugly and horrible. And if the people he hates are anything to go by, you probably are.  
  
Just take us at face value. Malfoy is a bastard and I am a cold-hearted, arrogant prick. That's who we are and that's how we want to be.  
  
I, Severus Snape am a miserable bastard.  
  
And that's all. 


End file.
